The Beacon
by GhostHelwig
Summary: It bugs Eddy, watching Edd hold out for something that’ll never happen... Rated T for slash and angst.


Disclaimer – I do not own or profit from Ed, Edd N Eddy. More's the pity. ...heh.

Rated T for slashy references. And angst. ...go figure, right? ('lol')

Dedicated to mysticlynx, whom I love dearly, and who I was thinking about when I suddenly thought of this. ...no, dearest, I do not know why. ('smile')

Also? I know not why I wrote Double D's name as 'Edd' in this, when I normally don't. It just... felt right. I had to. I dunno why.

Anyway, enjoy. Peace, all.

-o-x-o-

The Beacon

by Ghost Helwig

-o-x-o-

It bugs Eddy, watching Edd hold out for something that'll never happen.

Because he sees Edd, trying desperately to be the _Perfect Son_, to be rigid and righteous and _miserable_ in his tedious, regimented perfection, as though that will bring his parents home – and it bothers him. So he tries to coax Edd out of his shell; tries to show him the world and all the wonders it can hold for those who live free.

It's an uphill battle, all the way. But Eddy perseveres, because it is not within him to give up, and he has finally found a cause, a home life more desperate and unsatisfying than his own.

Every scheme he has them undertake - it's all for Edd's own good, y'see. Really.

So he leads, and Ed and Edd follow, and life, however imperfect, goes on. But Edd still holds out his futile hopes like a lighthouse beacon to lead his lost parents back to him, and it bugs Eddy, every day. He watches Edd's insipid dreams of a full and happy home with parents who love him break like waves on his empty doorstep every single day of every single year, and he is both amazed at the ceaseless show of devotion and infuriated by it. Hope springs eternal in Edd, and Eddy watches it slowly kill him with quickly dwindling patience.

But they do not speak of it, because they are _Boys_ (this is very important, to Eddy) and boys do not '_share_'. Boys do not break, even when they've been abandoned – and most of all, boys do not _feel_ (at least, not where others can see).

_Buck up, there, Eddy, don't cry – you're the man of the house, now that your brother's leaving. And men don't cry._

_No, father_, he thinks, _men don't._

So he goes on, and Edd goes on, and Ed goes on the easiest of them all because Ed doesn't change as no one ever taught him how. And things last that way throughout their teenage years, with Edd waiting and Ed laughing and Eddy seething in his own darkly quiet way, his boundless, screeching anger the perfect cover for anything he feels inside.

They split up to go to college – or rather, Edd _leaves them_ to go off to college in Boston (it's Yale for him), while Eddy and Ed stay behind, Ed taking a janitorial position at a nearby animal hospital and Eddy working dead-end jobs at one gas station after another, biding the time until his father decides he can try to join him at his car dealership. Life has taken a turn Eddy isn't sure he likes, what with the drudgery of the nine-to-five (or, more often, ten-thirty to three, assuming he hasn't gotten fired by then) workday, but it is what it is, and he knows he cannot change it. He has no energy to waste on foolish schemes anymore.

He is a realist, he thinks, and realists give up their dreams somewhere along the way, because they know that dreams aren't real.

Which is why it comes as such a surprise to him when Edd returns early for Christmas break his junior year. He should not be there, when Eddy pulls up in front of the house he still lives in with his parents because he never can save up for a down payment on his own place; he should not be sitting on the stoop, arms wrapped around his knees to ward off the cold, waiting for him. But he is, and Eddy invites him inside without a moment's pause – he would never leave Edd out in the cold.

Once inside, they are quiet – it's a day for quiet, with the snow lightly falling and the light falling out of the sky in streaks of red and gold that peek out from behind the heavy gray. It'll storm soon, Edd says, and Eddy has no reason not to believe him.

Then Edd kisses him, and when Eddy pushes him away he knows that the storm has come.

Edd's looking at him, asking him, breaking their unspoken vow to let all the messes in their lives _die_. And all Eddy can do is stand there, feeling shaken.

But Edd's looking at him with eyes made of heartache and glass. And it really isn't fair, because the beacon Edd held out was only supposed to be for his parents – not for him.

It bugs Eddy, watching Edd hold out for something that'll never happen.

And so finally, he has to answer, because not answering would be as heartless as leaving your child to fend for himself when his only crime was to be born when you didn't want him, and his answer sends Edd running back out into the falling snow. It's getting darker outside, heavier. Eddy wishes he could get warm.

But he can't give, not what Edd wants him to. He can't hold. He can't feel, or speak, or do any of those other human things.

Because it bugs Eddy, watching Edd hold out for something that'll never happen. It reminds him too much of himself.

--_The End_--


End file.
